Not My Fault
by 15animefreak15
Summary: A short, "spur of the moment inspiration" one-shot. Wrote while listening to the "Repo Man" song. In my first person/second person POV, mostly. WARNING: BLOOD AND GORE.


Okay, soooo... this is just an idea I had on a whim. Before you all say it, YES. I KNOW. I'm sorry I haven't updated "The Adventure Continues" yet, but I've been busy up the ass!! I WANT to work on it, but I haven't found the time.

Anyway, I was just listening to the "Repo Man" song from this pwnsome movie when inspiration struck... unfortunately in this way. I scared myself pretty bad writing this seeing as, well... it's in my POV. First person mostly, some second person. It's just meant to be a short, on-the-spot one-shot. But please review! I'd like to know what you think, especially since I'm an aspiring horror writer with my own ideas.

Disclaimer: I don't own the movie Repo! The Genetic Opera or GeneCo or the Repo Man. Just me. And my death. Yeah...

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**Not My Fault**

I run through the deserted streets of the wrecked, decaying city, my sneakers slapping harshly against the dirty the cement. _'When had they become deserted?!'_ I wonder frantically, my head whipping this way and that in search of someone to run to or somewhere to hide in. The action causes my long, black hair to whip into and out of my face, some of it getting caught in my mouth. It's partially open, sucking in air like a desperate vacuum cleaner so that I can keep running, keep breathing.

'_Oh, God, I have to keep breathing! But that's why I'm in this mess! God!!' _I think, suppressing the tears that want to brim my hazel eyes as I run faster. I angrily pull the loose strands of hair from my mouth, hair that was once a healthy chestnut brown. Sometimes I wonder why I dyed it... to fit in, I suppose. Of course, the surgery wasn't to fit in, oh no.

I'd never been that desperate or that addicted to the scalpel like so many others. My chest heaves as I skid around a corner, nearly tripping in the process and just barely holding my balance. I'm able to catch a glimpse of my pursuer as I turn; tall, cloaked, menacing. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" I scream in desperation, every inch of my body burning from the exertion of fleeing for my very life.

I don't wait to see if the figure listened or not, just keep running down yet another deserted street. The cool night air does nothing to cool my sweating body or soothe my burning lungs. _'Lungs... these damned lungs! Mother, I hate you! This is all your fault!!'_ I think in frustration, remembering the declaration of lung cancer from the doctor. Dear old mom had always been an avid smoker, using up at least a pack a day, if not more.

"Surgery." That's what the doctor had stated immediately after the diagnosis; surgery to replace her cancerous lungs with newer, healthy ones. But surgery cost money, money her family didn't have. Then... "GeneCo. They'll help you." That's what they'd been told, that's how she got her new lungs and lived, that's the contract she signed.

And now she was going to die. Of course she knew who her pursuer was; the Repo Man. He was after her lungs; work was hard to find, and she'd lost track of just how much debt she had. AND NOW SHE WAS GOING TO DIE. "I don't want to die! God, please!" I shout to the night sky, more out of fearful desperation than any real hope that help will come.

I gasp as I nearly run headlong into a tall fence, reaching out to grasp the links with my pale fingers and shake it roughly. "No, no, no, NO!! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!" I scream at the top of my lungs; his footsteps echoing far behind me as my voice dies out. _'Not now, not here, not like this!'_ I think, tearing off my black zip-up hoodie and letting it carelessly drop to the damp concrete.

The chilly night air hits my exposed arms; my only other clothing being a tight black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. I begin to climb, gripping the fence with a vice-like grip, as if- no, my life DID depend on it, damn it! By the time I'm halfway up I can hear him stop at the fence's base below me, and I double my efforts at climbing towards the top. _'If only I can get over this fence! I'll be home-free! Please, God, don't let me fall!!' _I think, whispering the words under my breath as my spindly fingers near the top.

"Yes... yes... yes!" I breathe, the four fingers and thumb of my right hand curling around the edge as I begin to heave myself up. Then, it happens. I lose my footing on the slick metal of the fence, and my body drops sharply. I scream, legs dangling as my hands grip the fence for dear life with all the strength I possess. My eyes are wide as I desperately try to pull myself up with arms alone, chest heaving painfully with each breath as I feel the sharp metal pierce the skin of my right hand.

"No... no... NOOOO!!!!" I shout as my hands finally slip from their holds, my body plummeting to the ground below. I close my eyes tightly, waiting to feel my back collide with the harsh cement and the ensuing pain. However, no collision comes, but the pain does in the most shocking of places. It shoots upwards from my navel all the way to the base of my neck, and I feel liquid pour down over my jeans... it's warm.

The stench of blood clogs my nostrils as I scream in a mixture of pain and terror, my eyes flying open only to reveal... HIM!! The Repo Man's standing there, on the other side of the fence, body and face hidden by thick rubber clothing. _'When had he gotten on that side?!'_ I shriek inside my head, body shaking as my eyes slowly look down. I give a gurgling gasp, followed by a cough as blood dribbles down from my mouth to my chin.

The Repo Man had shoved a large knife through the fence, cutting it as easily as it had just cut through my shirt and flesh. Using gravity, he'd gutted me with ease, cutting open some of my vital organs and exposing the rest for all to see. I gag, nausea washing over me as I feel like puking, but all that comes up is more blood to stain my pale rips rose red. Black is starting to edge into my vision as I wheeze out my final breaths, glazed eyes flitting from my murderer to the night sky above. One thing is clear to me as the Repo Man reaches through the hole in the fence, gloved hand moving in for the prize.

The blood red GeneCo sign stood out in the inky black sky, the last thing I saw as my eyes fell closed and I felt the grip tighten around my still expanding lungs. "N..ot... my... fau..lt... mom..." I murmur on whispery lips, feeling the agonizing tug but far too weak and near death to scream anymore. The eternal black of death surrounds me like a smothering blanket, as my pain and anguish melt away.

~*~

A bloody body hits the ground. Two healthy, warm lungs are carefully placed in an iced container. Heavy footsteps trudge away down the abandoned street, not looking back. "...It's not your fault. So young, so young. My daughter, Shilo, would you have been her friend? I am only doing my job! I am sorry."

~*~

R.I.P.

Tara Marie Luketic

July 20, 2039 - October 5, 2056

Beloved daughter and devoted sister.

You shall forever be missed.

.............Another one falls to the Repo Man.

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Sooo... there it is! How was it? Was it scary? Was I descriptive enough for it to be horror? Please tell me what you think of my horror writing skills! And I promise I'll try to find time to work on "The Adventure Continues!" Thanks for reading!


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